


Symphonies In My Head

by angelsaves



Category: Hockey RPF, Montreal Canadiens RPF
Genre: M/M, Open Relationships, Sex Pollen, Soul Bond, Trapped In Elevator, bro-boning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PK and Carey wake up temporarily soulbonded, and that's not even the weirdest thing that happens all week. </p>
<p>(Contains soulbonding, sex pollen, and being trapped in an elevator -- uh, I heard you liked tropes, so I put some tropes in your tropes! Also includes mention of an open relationship, which I will explain more spoiler-ily in the end notes for people with concerns.)</p>
<p>This is a Yuletide treat!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symphonies In My Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sybill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sybill/gifts).



PK wakes up with a start. Something's wrong -- does one of the dogs need something? He gets out of bed and stumbles towards the door before he remembers: he doesn't have a dog.

Sitting back down on the bed, PK tries to wrap his head around it. It feels like part of him is feeding dogs, but that doesn't make any sense. Unless... What if this is like what happened to Hallsy and Ebs during World Juniors? All of a sudden, they'd been in each other's heads, and it lasted for a good two weeks, he thinks.

So does that mean somebody's in his head, too? Well, it's worth a try. PK takes a breath and a guess, and thinks carefully: _Pricey?_

There's a heavy pause, and then a thought that isn't his: _PK?_

PK fistpumps. _Hey! This is so cool!_ He's always wanted superpowers, and this is pretty close.

_We're psychic now, huh? Cool._ Carey doesn't sound sure about that. _I'm going to go back to sleep._

_Sleep well, buddy!_ PK thinks, and decides that sounds like a good idea. He falls back asleep with no trouble.

***

When he wakes up for real a few hours later, PK just about has time to shower and eat breakfast before it's time to get to practice. The first person he runs into, as usual, is Carey. "Hey!" he says, offering him a high-five.

"Hey," Carey says, and adds silently, _Looking forward to trying out our new skills?_

_Totally!_ PK turns away and starts changing into his gear. _Should we, you know -- tell anybody about it?_

_I'd rather not,_ Carey thinks. _Our little secret, eh?_

_Cool with me,_ PK thinks. He doesn't mind either way.

The team gets out onto the ice and warms up, then starts a scrimmage. At first, PK thinks Therrien is going to murder him. He keeps suddenly seeing things from Carey's perspective and trying to cover a puck that's nowhere near him. He might not know exactly how to translate "tabarnak de fucking crisse, Subban!", but he knows he's definitely being cursed out.

Finally, it clicks -- PK figures out how to sort of see both perspectives at once, like screen-within-a-screen on TV, and it's like, well, magic. He gets between the puck and the net again and again, and when practice is over, Carey claps him on the back. _Not bad, Subby,_ he thinks.

_You didn't suck either,_ PK allows, and Carey grins at him.

***

The weirdest thing about this soulbond, or whatever, is probably the crimp it puts in PK's jerking off schedule. For one thing, it's weird doing it at all, knowing that Carey is there in the back of his head. He's gotten better at shielding him out over the past few days, but he's not positive he's good enough at it yet.

For another thing... look, Pricey is a good-looking guy, okay? It's not a big deal or anything that he's a regular feature in PK's spank bank. Sometimes, he's just in the mood for a dude with high cheekbones, big hands, and a fine ass. It happens.

But it feels like a big deal when suddenly he can't fantasize about Carey without worrying about, like, summoning him, like Beetlejuice, only way more awkward.

So PK's basically been on a jerking-it diet since that early morning. He's not a sex fiend or anything, it hasn't exactly been torture, but there's nothing to make a guy think about his dick like not being able to touch it.

That's probably why, when the random Habs fan in St. Louis offers him a cookie, he takes it. He can only deal with so much denial at once, you know? Almost as soon as it passes his lips, he's aware of what a bad idea it was -- not only is he supposed to avoid carbs, his mother would smack him for taking food from a stranger, and it's not even chocolate -- but what's the worst that could happen?

***

He finds out after practice. PK realizes there's something wrong almost as soon as he gets off the ice. He feels itchy all over, and so horny he can barely think. What the hell was in that cookie?

The second he's back in his room, PK yanks off his pants and sits down on the bed to get down to business. The way he feels, it's not going to take long at all. He licks his palm and jerks himself quick and hard, not bothering to think of anything at all beyond how good it's going to feel to get off.

And then... nothing. He's still hard, still poised on the edge of coming, but he's just not tipping over that edge, and his dick is starting to chafe. Fine -- he'll step up his game a little.

PK digs some lube out of his luggage, slicks up his hand, and tries again. It feels better, skin-wise, but it still isn't getting him anywhere, even when he swirls his thumb over the head of his dick and plays with his balls like he's on a date. Maybe if he tries fantasizing --? But no, his go-to is a no-go these days. If Carey is uncomfortable picking up on PK's carb cravings, who knows how he'd react if he overheard PK thinking about _him_?

But he has to do _something_ , or he's going to explode. PK sits there, dick in hand, and tries to think of somebody hot who's not his psychically-bonded goalie, but it's like when somebody says not to think about pink elephants. All he can think about is Carey's huge hands, how bendy he is, the way he looks so intense when he's concentrating on something --

Then PK's phone buzzes. He wipes his hand off on his sheets and checks it: a text from Prusty that just says _im bored_.

Well that's somebody who isn't Pricey, at least. Maybe he'd be interested in exchanging handies, like buddies? It's not like they haven't had weirder conversations. So PK texts him back: _want me 2 do sumthin abt that ;)_ He hopes the winky face will convey his intent.

Almost immediately, Prusty texts back: _b rite over_. PK considers putting his pants back on, but before he can make up his mind, Prusty is opening the door.

"Oh, awesome," Prusty says, when he sees PK's state of undress. "Mind if I join you?"

"Please," PK says magnanimously, and Prusty strips off in record time. He looks good, like a big, gingery drink of water. A drink of ginger ale? PK would try not to focus on his cock, but Prusty is really obviously checking his out, so he looks his fill: long, cut, filling out as PK watches to a truly respectable size.

"Not bad," Prusty says, nodding to PK's dick. "Want to mess around?"

"God, yeah," PK says.

Prusty grins at him. "Cool." He comes over and straddles PK where he's sitting on the edge of the bed, nudging their cocks together, and kisses him soundly.

PK moans into it, it feels so good, and Prusty pulls back, getting a hand on PK's dick. "You want me to take care of this?" he offers.

"Fuck, yeah," PK says, but, in the interest of honesty, adds, "There's something weird going on, though."

"What, like a burning sensation? We can use condoms, if that's what you're worried about," Prusty says. "You should talk to the trainers about that, though."

"No, no, I always glove up," PK says quickly. "Just, you know, I was trying to get off before you got here, and it wasn't... working."

"Did you eat something from a stranger?" Prusty asks. PK's face must give him away, because Prusty nods sagely and says, "Oh, you got whammied."

"I got what?" PK shifts his hips so his dick moves in Prusty's grip -- not exactly subtle, sure, but Jesus, he's dying here.

"Whammied," Prusty repeats, but he starts jerking PK off, too slowly, but still awesome. "It happens sometimes, and whatever you try, jerking off doesn't work. I helped Boyler out when it happened to him, back in New York."

"So it's, like... normal?" PK asks. "Would you speed up or something? You're killing me."

Prusty laughs, but starts moving his hand faster, thank God. "I don't know about normal, but it happens. Do you like it in the ass?"

"Sure," PK says. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Prusty says, "it's pretty great. You'll feel better faster if I stick it in you, though."

"Is that for real? I bet you just can't resist my ass," PK says. "Not that I'm complaining."

"It is a pretty nice one," Prusty says. "I'm just helping you out because we're buds, though. My dick is free-range, but my heart belongs to Maripier."

"That's fair," PK says. "Thanks, by the way."

Prusty grins and grabs the lube from next to PK. "Not exactly a hardship," he says. "You don't mind if I tell her about this, do you? She likes to hear stories."

"As long as you make me sound hot," PK says.

"Won't be hard." Prusty smacks PK lightly on the ass. "Put your knees up, let me get in there."

PK does, and Prusty starts teasing his hole with one slicked-up finger. It feels so good that PK can't help moaning, again. "Fuck, you're good at this," he says, clenching around Prusty's fingertips.

"Thank Maripier," Prusty says, stroking expertly in and out of PK. "She taught me everything I know. Well, almost."

"Nnngh," PK says. "She does this to you?"

"Told you I like it in the ass," Prusty says, and damn, the image of Prusty in this position, with his pretty girlfriend sticking it to him... if he hadn't been whammied, or whatever, PK might be coming just picturing it.

While he was daydreaming, Prusty was apparently getting a condom out of his pants; PK watches as he rolls it on. God, if he doesn't come soon, he doesn't know what will happen.

Then he feels the blunt head of Prusty's cock nudging at his hole, and moans with pleasure. "Come on, already," he says, wrapping one leg around Prusty's waist so he can pull him closer.

"Patience, grasshopper," says Prusty, but then he pushes in, in, _in_ , and PK's making noises he didn't even know he _could_ make.

"Yeah, fuck, like that," PK says, Prusty giving it to him in heavy thrusts --

\-- and the door opens. "PK, are you -- oh... kay..." Carey trails off.

"Oh, Jesus, Carey," PK says, and comes all over himself.

"I'll just -- sorry to interrupt." There's a click -- Carey locking the door behind him -- and then silence.

"Well," Prusty says. "That was awkward. Do you want me to --"

"Go ahead and finish," PK says, maybe a little more forcefully than strictly necessary. "It's not your fault."

"I mean, I could have made sure the door was locked," Prusty says, but then he's clenching his hands on PK's hips and fucking into him, and he comes squeezing his eyes shut and biting down on his lower lip.

"C'mon, lie down," PK says, tugging on Prusty's shoulder until he pulls out and flops down next to him. "You can hang out for a while, at least."

"You sure?" Prusty asks, taking off the condom and lobbing it into the trash can. "Pricey seemed a little..."

"That's just how he's been lately," PK says. He gets up and goes to wash up, but leaves the door open so they can still hear each other. "I don't know what his problem is."

"I can guess," Prusty calls.

"Oh yeah?" PK dries off and comes back out, throwing himself on the bed facedown. "What do you think it is?"

Prusty pats PK on the back. "He's jealous, bro."

"What, he wants to fuck you?" He didn't think Prusty was Carey's type, but apparently even having a psychic bond isn't giving him insight into Carey's head.

"No, dumbass, he wants to fuck _you_ ," Prusty says.

"He does not," PK retorts immediately.

"Hey, I could be wrong," Prusty says, "but I'm pretty sure he wants some of this." He grabs a handful of PK's ass.

PK wriggles appreciatively. "I guess it's not the weirdest thing you've said tonight."

"Think about it." Prusty gives PK's ass a pat, then heaves himself up. "I'm gonna get out of here. Thanks for the good time, bud."

"Thanks for the whammy cure," PK says.

"Any time," Prusty says, pulling his shirt over his head. "You know -- as long as it's okay with Pricey."

PK throws a pillow at him, but Prusty dodges out of the room. He's obviously wrong. There's no way Carey is jealous -- that just doesn't make any sense. But now that PK's un-whammied, he can get to sleep and not think about it.

***

The next morning, after a nice long shower, PK decides he wants to take advantage of the hotel's free coffee, so he throws on track pants and a T-shirt and heads for the elevator. There's someone going in as he rounds the corner. "Hold the elevator!" he calls.

The person sticks out a hand, keeping the doors open as PK jogs up. "Thanks," he says, bending down to tie his shoes as the doors close.

"No problem," says... Carey. Of course.

"Uh, hey," PK says, scratching the side of his neck. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Carey says. "I guess you had a pretty good night."

PK opens his mouth to answer, and then there's a horrible grinding sound. The elevator comes to a screeching halt. "You're kidding me," he says.

"You could have locked the door," Carey bursts out.

"I meant the elevator," PK tries to say, but Carey keeps going, ignoring the steady beep of the alarm.

"I didn't even know you and Prusty had a thing," he says, and Jesus, was Prusty right?

"Shut up, Pricey," PK says, and Carey shuts his mouth with a snap, eyes blazing. "I want to try something." So what if it comes from Star Trek -- it can't hurt, can it? He cups the side of Carey's face and thinks as hard as he can about everything that happened last night, from the cookie to Carey walking in, how desperate he was, how much he wanted it to be Carey instead.

Carey gasps, and then he's kissing PK, wrapping one big hand around the back of his neck to hold him close. "I can't believe you," Carey says, pulling back just far enough to talk, then kissing PK again, twining their tongues together and backing him against the wall of the elevator.

"I can't believe _you_ ," PK says. Now that they're touching, he's getting these waves of feeling from Carey: jealousy of Prusty, desire for PK -- a _lot_ of desire for PK, God, how did he not notice?

"Come on, let me," Carey mumbles, and the idea he's having sounds really good to PK, so he lets Carey stick his hand in his pants and grab his cock.

"You too, me too," PK says, reaching into Carey's sweats. It feels like _finally_ when he gets his hand on Carey's cock, hot and smooth under his fingers. "Wait --" He rocks forward, pressing them together, and then he can get his hand on both of their dicks at once.

It's like the opposite of last night -- before he knows it, PK is coming, and Carey is kissing him through it, hot and sloppy and amazing. _Jesus,_ he thinks.

_Yeah,_ Carey thinks, and _us._

_So does this mean you're going to quit being weird and jealous?_ PK asks, kissing Carey at the same time, which will probably never get old.

_Probably not._ Carey nips his bottom lip, then pulls back so PK can see his grin. _That okay?_

_I think I can handle it._ PK feels goofy with happiness.

Suddenly, the beeping of the elevator cuts off, and the door opens. "...Hi, guys," says Prusty, as they hurriedly shove their dicks back in their pants.

"Uh, hi," PK says, waving awkwardly with the hand not covered in jizz, oh, God.

Prusty looks them both up and down, really obviously. "Congrats," he says finally, wiggling his eyebrows like a loser.

"Thanks," Carey says, cool as a cucumber.

"High five?" Prusty offers. "...Not with _that_ hand, Pricey! I know where it's been!"

PK laughs his head off. As they take the elevator back to their floor to get cleaned up -- and hey, maybe get messy again -- he and Carey exchange a triple low five.

**Author's Note:**

> (Spoilery "open relationship" tag clarification: In this fic, Brandon Prust is in an open relationship with his current real-life girlfriend, Maripier Morin -- everything is above-board!)
> 
> The title is from "Trumpets" by Jason Derulo.


End file.
